


Sacred

by retrospectav



Series: Incarnations [2]
Category: Actor RPF, Irish Actor RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Plus-Size Lovin’s
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-20
Updated: 2014-05-02
Packaged: 2018-01-13 05:29:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 3,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1214449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/retrospectav/pseuds/retrospectav
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Victorian Priest!Michael<br/>**Each story can be read as a stand alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Complete.  
> Part 2 of the "Incarnations" collection. Michael and Elizabeth (Lisbeth) meet again. **Inspired by "Jane Eyre".**  
> Written by stayhomemom.tumblr.com

Since he was six years old, the only thing he’d ever wanted to be was a priest. Even during his misspent youth when he debauched himself with the carnalities of the flesh, neither man nor woman could slake his desire for the Lord. God consumed his thoughts, her heart, his very being. So when he became of age, he submitted himself to the church and her tutelage. 

When he first became a fully vetted priest, he was assigned a church. Some of the parishoners had tried to tempt their handsome young priest with either the illicit way they received communion, or by the indulgent ‘sinful thoughts’ they would confess to him. He would simple give them their penance and bless them, nothing satisfied him more than his service to God.

It was a cold, dreary Sunday morning as Father Michael stood before his congregation, offering mass. The candles lighting the chapel creating a halo effect around his head. When through the back doors squeaked a young woman looking very much like a drowned rat. She wore no coat. She shivered violently as she took a spot in the corner of the back pew. Her bonnet did not sit high on her head, but was pulled tightly about her head. What he could see of her face, he did not recognize. Michael continued his benediction, occasionally looking back to where the young woman sat. He was inwardly relieved when he noticed her head bowed and that her shivering had begun to subside.

When Michael finished communion, he gave his homily and blessed the congregation. The altar boys proceeded out of the main entrance,followed by the parishioners and then Michael himself. He stood and dutifully shook peoples hands and thanked them for coming to the service. He noted that the woman was not among those that greeted him.

As the last of the parishioners left, Michael returned to the sanctuary to divest himself of his robes. As he passed by the back pew, he saw that woman had lain herself down in the pew. He approached quietly, studying her form. She was plump, but pleasantly so. Her shoes were muddy, and worn through. Her plush body was covered in ill-fitting gown, the color faded, the fabric thin, and the hem tattered. Her bonnet was plain, the edges frayed. Her round cheeks were pale and her ample pink lips were chapped. As Michael concluded his visually examination, a fit of coughs racked her body. 

He sat on the pew next to her. He reached out and lightly shook her shoulder. She stirred. “Child. Wake, my child.” He spoke softly not to alarm her. She rose up on the bench. Upon seeing Michael, she through her arms around his body. “O Father, forgive me!” He returned her embrace, cradling her to him. He could feel how chilled she was, and willed heat from his body to the soft curves pressing against him.


	2. Chapter 2

“I can’t see anything you need forgiving for Child.”  
“O you don’t know Father.” Tears began to course down her her face.  
“Come Child”. He helped her up, escorted her through the church, then to the parsonage.  
As soon as his housekeeper, Mrs.Behan, saw her she took her from him and sat her down at the table. “O love, you look like death.”  
Michael handed a blanket to Mrs. Behan, and she wrapped the blanket carefully around the woman. “I’ll get some hot soup for you love.”

Michael sat down across the table from the woman as Mrs. Behan served the soup.  
Michael said grace then the young woman spooned her bowl greedily. Mrs. Behan was quick with a second bowl and a hunk of buttered bread, then she sat too. Michael and Mrs. Behan sipped at their soup, waiting for the young woman to finish eating. When the woman finished, Mrs. Behan cleared the dishes, and served them all hot tea. The woman continued to sit, her eyes downcast. Michael smiled at her kindly.

“Child, what is your name?”  
“Elizabeth Hiver.”  
“Miss Hiver, what is it you claim need to forgiveness for?”  
Mrs. Behan stood to leave, but he stilled her with his hand.   
The woman eyes welled with tears and she choked on a sob.   
Michael released Mrs. Behan and she immediately went to comfort Miss Hiver.  
“O Father! I can’t…” She choked on another sob.  
“Just start from the beginning love.” Mrs. Behan encouraged softly.  
“I am… I was a governess of two children, a boy and girl. Their father often came and spent time with the children when his schedule allowed. He and I had a proper acquaintance, but his wife, the children’s mother, took offense and cast me out. Without references, no other family would consider me. I have no kin, no money, no home. Any possession I may have had, I sold, including…” She pulled her bonnet from her head. Mrs. Behan gasped and Michael eyes went wide.   
Miss Hiver had obviously sold her hair, and the remains of her golden locks stood out from her head in awkward clumps. She buried her face in Mrs. Behan apron.  
“Mrs. Behan, I believe a bath is in order.” Michael ordered gently.  
“Yes Father. Come love.”  
Miss Hiver stood to follow Mrs. Behan, then stopped suddenly, falling at Michael’ feet.  
“Father, will God ever forgive me?”  
He placed his hand lightly on her head, feeling the once silky texture of the now uneven tufts.  
“Miss Hiver, you have done no sin for God to forgive.”  
“But it’s for what I thought to do Father?”  
“What is that Child?”  
“My virtue, Father,” she sobbed. “My virtue is all I had left of value. Would God forgive me for willing to sell my virtue?”  
“O my blessed Child. Fear not. All is well with your soul.”  
Miss Hiver kissed his hands profusely.  
“Thank you Father. Thank you.”  
Mrs. Behan eased her up to her feet and escorted her to another room for a bath.  
Michael remained seated at the table in contemplation.


	3. Chapter 3

Michael knocked gently on the door to the spare room. Mrs. Behan opened the door and welcomed Michael to enter. Inside Elizabeth was tucked under blankets on the bed.  
“How does she?” He enquired quietly.  
“She sleeps, but not peacefully.”   
Both she and Michael looked to the bed with concern.   
“Mrs. Behan I will sit vigil with her a while. You go rest yourself a bit.”  
“Yes, Father.”  
Mrs. Behan exited and Michael took up the seat by the bed.

The rain had not dissipated as the day wore on. Michael watched the steady rise and fall of the blankets, seemingly in time to the heavy drops hitting the window pane. He gently lifted one her hands from the bed, and clasped it firmly between his two, strong ones. He bowed his head, resting his forward on his hands with her hand between. He prayed in earnest for God to show him what must be done. She stirred in her sleep, the blankets shifting to reveal her shoulders and chest. The tie of the nightgown was loose, and the soft swell of her breast was visible. He gingerly reached out to close the nightgown over the exposed skin, but his fingers grazed against the smooth flesh, and his cock instantly responded. He took a sharp breath and finished the task of closing her gown. He stared down at her for unmarked time, watching as candlelight flickered across her round face. Despite Mrs. Behan’s description of her sleep not being peacefully, Elizabeth’s features seemed angelic. He could not stay his fingers tracing the line of her jaw from her ear to her chin. She moved her face instinctively into his touch, her lips falling slightly ajar in the motion. He chanced to graze the lower lip with the pad of his thumb. Her lips were plump and full like the rest of her, and in that moment Michael wanted to press his lips against her hers, to feel the softness of her body give way to his hardness..

There was a knock at the door and he quickly withdrew his hand as if scalded by fire. He desperately tried to tame his thoughts as Mrs. Behan entered carrying a tray of hot tea and biscuits.

“Any change?” She asked innocently.  
Michael shook his head, not trusting his voice.  
“Father you look flushed. You go rest yourself awhile. I fear we have a long night ahead of us.”  
Michael cleared his throat.   
“I believe you are right Mrs. Behan. Call for me if need be.”

And with that he made a hasty retreat to his own room. Where he fell to his knees by his bedside and began frantically whispering his conflicted thoughts to God. Had he not spurned dozens of lovers to pursue his one true love? Had he had never found the pleasure of the flesh as divine as God? What was it about this woman that suddenly made him want for something more tangible than his faith?


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BEANIECREE, this a bit short, but I hope you like it :).

The next few days passed slowly. Mrs. Behan asked one of the girls from the village to come help out, so she and Father Michael could care for Elizabeth. Mostly Michael kept to his usually priestly duties, when he did have some time he would take a turn sitting with Elizabeth. He was able to maintain himself by reading aloud from scripture. Occasionally, he would find himself lingering on her face, letting his gaze drift to rise and fall of her breathing. Then he would catch himself, he would call for Mrs. Behan or the girl to to relieve him. By the fourth day Elizabeth’s fever had broken, her coughing had nearly ceased, and her sleep had become much more restful. 

Mrs. Behan was with her now. Elizabeth was sitting up in the bed sipping hot broth when Michael came in the room.

“Good morning Father.” She smiled at him weakly. He was awestruck by the emotions rolling like a storm in her blue eyes. Her short blond hair laying flat, accentuating the roundness of her face. His fingers itched to touch her her, to comfort her, to hold her close again.  
“Morning Miss Hiver.” He returned her smile encouragingly.  
Mrs. Behan looked between them, then stood to leave. “I will leave you two to talk.”  
Michael held the door for her, then closed it quietly behind her.

“I would like to thank you, both of you, for taking me in and caring for me.”  
“You are a child of God, and I consider it a pure joy to serve you.”  
“I fear I may have embarrassed myself the other day.”  
“Embarrassed yourself? How?”  
She bowed her head. “My wretched display in the church and in the kitchen.”  
“No such event occurred I assure you.”  
She looked up at him abruptly and he winked at her. She gasped in astonishment, then she smiled. A real smile, one that touched her eyes and made her shine. It was contagious, her amusement so plain, he smiled broadly in return even adding a soft chuckle.  
“You just concentrate on getting better. And please do not worry for anything.”  
“Yes, Father.”  
It was the first he’d seen her calm and serene. The lightness in her spirit pervaded the room, and Michael too felt a lightness in his soul.


	5. Chapter 5

The next few days passed quietly. Mrs. Behan attended to Elizabeth. Michael stopped in periodically to greet her and see how she was doing, but he does not linger.

One day shortly after their previous conversation. Michael knocked lightly on the door.   
“Come.” He heard Mrs. Behan command gently.  
As he entered, Mrs. Behan was tying a shawl around Elizabeth’s shoulders. She was dressed warmly in a wool dress of Mrs. Behan’s, a bonnet tied neatly around her round face. Elizabeth hid a shy smile at Michael’s appraisal of her.

“Father, I believe Miss Hiver is need of a walk.” Mrs. Behan gregariously hinted.  
Michael was briefly stunned, then quickly gathered himself. “Certainly.”  
He offered his arm, “Miss Hiver?”

He escorted her outside. The day was bright and sunny, but was still very chilled. They did not initially speak. Michael admitted to himself that he enjoyed being with her, even in silence. There was something peaceful about her, he need not fill their time with idle chatter. He could feel her hand flexing on his arm, seemingly not sure how tight or how light to grip his arm. He reached over and patted her hand reassuringly and then let his land linger on top. He smiled when he felt her sigh in relief. Glancing sideways, he saw her smile as well.

The greeted many of his congregants as they walked.

“Father?” She asked after being introduced to some of them.  
“Yes, Miss Hiver.”  
“Why do they not object to you having a single woman in your care?”  
He chuckled. “Well, let us say that they have already tested my character and found me honorable.”  
“That sounds interesting.”  
“Indeed. However, the tales are not for sharing.”  
“Of course.”  
They walked on a bit more.  
“Father?”  
“You are free to speak Miss Hiver, you do not to ask my permission.”  
“My apologies. It is habit for me.”  
“Apologising for imagined sins seems to be a habit as well.”  
She blushed.  
“Now it is my turn to apologize for shaming you. Please forgive me.”  
“No offense taken, Father. I fear I am an easy target for others.”  
“But it should not be so, my child. We should all love and respect each other as fellow creations of God. I am hurt that others have injured you thus.”  
“Unfortunately, it is a condition I am accustomed to.”  
“Who has told you are not worthy of higher esteem?”  
She bowed her head.  
“How harshly I treat you after your illness Miss Hiver. You do not need to offer me a response.”  
“It’s only…”  
He waited for her to continue.  
“I altered the truth when I told you I had no kin, but yet I still know it is true.”  
“A non-truth that you do not beg my forgiveness for? I must hear more.” Michael encouraged lightheartedly.  
She smiled meekly. “My mother died when I was 3, and my father when I was 15. I had a sister 3 years older than me. She resented having to raise me, and to be the woman of the house. I can not fault her. She was 6 years old. No child should be responsible for a household at that age. She would often get angry with me because I possessed a freedom she did not. She criticized and corrected me frequently. Her and father were of opposite dispositions and quarrelled often. She was 19 when father passed. She met a military man and moved to India, abandoning me. A friend of my mother’s took pity on me, and payed my way at the nunnery.”  
Michael hummed at this new confession.  
“I see why you claim to have no kin. Your sister disowned you. You did not lie. I am saddened for both you and your sister to have suffered such loss. You are correct to say she was burdened with much at an early age. However to focus her frustrations on you was unfitting. I will pray for her forgiveness, and that her soul has found contentment.”  
Elizabeth smiled broadly. “Thank you Father. That means a great deal to me.”  
“I pray the same for you, my Child.”  
“To be honest…”  
“I would never doubt your veracity on any subject, Miss Hiver.” He teased gently.  
She grinned in response. “I have felt more accepted and loved this past week in your home, then I believe I have felt my whole life.”  
“Then please consider Mrs. Behan and I your new family.” Michael smiled warmly at her.  
Her eyes welled with tears, and she bit her bottom lip to keep them at bay.  
“Thank you Father.” She whispered earnestly.  
He patted her hand and they continued their walk.


	6. Chapter 6

Michael and Elizabeth sat by the fire. He was reading a book, occasionally glancing over at Elizabeth has she attempted to unknot some yarn she was crocheting with. Mrs. Behan sat at a small writing desk attending to some private affairs.  
Michael lifted his eyes to look at her again. This time, he became mesmerized by the way the firelight played across her face. She looked up and caught him staring.  
“Father?”  
“Yes, Miss Hiver,” He recovered. “I was curious. You said earlier that you attended school at a nunnery?”  
“Yes.”  
“You have shown yourself to be contrite, loving, and faithful. Did you not contemplate taking your vows?”  
She smiled knowingly to herself. “I prayed about it.”  
“Yet?”  
Again, that charming smile.  
“Each time I consider saying my vows, I would receive this very distinct image of a man and a small girl walking with her hand in his. Though their faces were obscured to me, I knew they were laughing and smiling at me.”  
Mrs. Behan was paying attention at this point. “Could not have been just a dream?”  
“Yes. However I think God gave me that image to keep me from becoming a nun.” Elizabeth swallowed, “That is one of the reasons I was so desolate when my employers cast me out. It made me question God. If the image He gave me was not real, then was He real?” She breathed in a hard breath and straightened her shoulders. “I was so cold and hungry. I was about to offer myself to someone when I heard the church bell toll. “ She paused for a long moment. Neither Mrs. Behan nor Michael rushed her. “If you had not helped me Father, I fear…”  
Michael was swiftly on his knees in front of her. He clasped his hands tightly around hers. “Do not fear. God has covered you with His hand. He is faithful to complete the good work He has begun in you.”  
Elizabeth smiled through her tears at him. He raised one hand to cup her face and used his thumb to brush away the wet drops. Mrs. Behan silently stood and left the room.  
That night, Michael woke with a start from a dream he’d been having. He had dreamt of a small girl with long, curly blond hair holding his hand. He smiled at her as she giggled. When he looked up, he saw Elizabeth looking upon them, glowing with love.


	7. Chapter 7

Days and weeks passed, Michael’s feelings for Elizabeth deepened. He fought the images from his past, as Elizabeth’s face replaced those that he had knowledge of. 

He found himself, many a morning, laying prostrate and penitent before the Lord. Seeking God’s will. Never before had he questioned his calling, and now it seemed that was all he did.

One afternoon, Michael approached Elizabeth’s room to ask her to go for a walk. He knocked lightly and heard a quiet answer. When he entered he saw Elizabeth sitting on the bed with her head bowed, looking a letter. She was sniffling, and crying softly. Mrs. Behan sat in a chair opposite her, clasping her hands. 

Michael ached to go to Elizabeth, to hold her, to comfort her. But he heeded the look Mrs. Behan gave him.

“I’m sorry to intrude, ladies. I will leave you to yourselves.”

He closed the door, paused for a moment, then continued on his way.

Elizabeth stayed in her room all day. She came out at dinner, but remained quiet all during the meal. 

That evening, as they sat by the fire, Michael could tell she was distracted. Her concentration was definitely not on her book. 

“Miss Hiver? Everything well with you?”

“Father Michael, I think it is time for me to move on.”

Michael was dumbstruck. It took him a few moments to gather his wits.

“I apologize Miss Hiver. I do not take your meaning.”

“Mrs. Behan has written to her brother in the north. He has found me a position as a governess there.”

He was stricken. He glanced between Mrs. Behan at her little desk, then back to Elizabeth.

“I fear, I am still at a loss. I thought you had found a home here, with us.”

“I have, but…” Her voice quivers. Mrs. Behan rises from her desk and exits the room.

Michaels watched in confusion.

“I will not let myself be the reason that a man falls from grace.”

“Elizabeth…” He stood to step towards her. She quickly stood, stepped away and turned her back to him.

“No. You belong to God and I have no right to these feelings…” She faltered.

Part of him recognized she was doing this for him, to save him from his own private hell. But the other part of him wanted to hold onto her and love her for as long as time allows. His mind reeled, grasping for any argument to persuade her to stay.

“But what about our dau…” He abruptly stopped himself. “The little girl in the dreams, what about her.”

“Perhaps she wasn’t a vision from God. Perhaps she was a devil’s trick to lead me astray. Whatever she may appeared to be…” She paused, the weight of her words sinking in it. “It was just a dream and nothing more.”

“Elizabeth…”

“Mrs. Behan has already secured my passage. I leave tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Father…” She turned to him. “Michael please let me do this.” She pleaded tenderly. He could see the struggle in her eyes.

He swiftly embraced her, one arm around her waist, the other hand cupping her face. “In another time, and in another life…”

They gazed at each other. There was a light knock at the door. The gazed just a moment longer before separating.

“Come in.” Michael permitted Mrs. Behan’s entry as he cleared his throat.

“Miss Hiver do you need assistance packing.” Mrs. Behan questioned anxiously.

“Yes, Mrs. Behan, that would be most kind.”

They leave the room. Michael remained by the fire, wrestling with God.

The next day, Michael and Mrs. Behan accompany Miss Hiver to the coach. Mrs. Behan hugged her fondly and wished her well. Michael handed her up into the carriage.

“Miss Hiver shall we ever see you again.” He spoke earnestly.

“One day, Father Michael, and then for eternity.” She reassured.

He smiled at her and she in return. 

The driver snapped the whip and the coach lurched away, then out of sight.


End file.
